


Orpheus

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, I do what I want, Idk why Sirius is out of Azkaban so don't ask, Non-graphic character death, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-17 12:22:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11275236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Voldemort's attempt to return as his younger, Tom Riddle self during The Trio's second year succeeds, they must flee Hogwarts and find themselves trusting an ex-convict, a werewolf, and their least favorite Potions Professor to keep them safe.What can possibly go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am officially Tomione trash. Also, I'm sorry. I did a bad thing and killed Ginny. But I always wondered what would have happened if Harry hadn't acted quick enough to stop Tom/Voldemort from coming back!  
> You'll find that I had Sirius get released from prison somehow; I actually need help finding a reason as to how this worked so drop some suggestions in the comments!

Harry didn't know how he got out of there, but he knew he was eternally in Professor Dumbledore’s debt. He'd managed to slay the Basilisk, but he had been too late to save Ginny. Just before Riddle could try and kill him, Fawkes has swooped down out of nowhere and plucked him up by his robes, flying out of the chamber. They stopped to get Ron and a confounded Lockhart before being returned to the hospital wing. McGonagall was helping Madam Pomfrey administer Mandrake Restorative Draught to the students who had been petrified. Much to their relief, Hermione was sitting up in her hospital bed. She looked pale and a little sickly, but she was awake, and that was all Harry and Ron cared about in that moment.

“Professor!” Harry exclaimed, remembering himself. “He's back! Voldemort is back!” McGonagall nearly dropped the heavy glass she had been carrying. 

“How?” she asked. Harry quickly rushed into his story as Madam Pomfrey started to look over Lockhart. “Merlin… Potter, you and Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley must leave the school immediately. If anyone is in great danger, it's you. Go to Hogsmeade, and find Madam Rosmerta. She'll help you get to London.” 

Hermione nodded, grabbing Harry’s hand and dragging him out of the hospital wing. Ron followed, and the three of them made their way down to Hogsmeade. When they entered The Three Broomsticks, Ron walked right up to the counter and talked to an attractive witch who looked at Hermione and Harry incredulously before leading them over to the fireplace. “You have traveled by floo powder before, haven't you?” Ron and Harry nodded. “Very well. Go to Diagon Alley, and try to blend in as well as you can.” 

“Harry, you go first,” Hermione stated. “You're the one Riddle wants. It's best if you get out of here.” Harry shook his head.

“No, you and Ron go. Hermione, you're a muggleborn. You're one of the first people he will try and…” he couldn't get himself to say the words. At the moment, he couldn't shake the image of Ginny laying lifeless on the cold stones of the Chamber of Secrets. 

“Harry—“ Hermione was cut off as Harry and Ron both shoved her into the fireplace. Ron threw the floo powder in after her and shouted “Diagon Alley!” She disappeared in a burst of flame and Ron followed. Harry hesitated; part of him wanted to run back and fight, but he knew it was foolish to even think that he could face the Dark Lord as a second year. So he followed his friends and appeared in the main floo landing in Diagon Alley. Hermione and Ron were waiting for him, their wands at the ready.

“We should get rid of our school clothes,” Hermione said as she began to take off her Gryffindor robe. Before she did, Harry grabbed her arm and tugged her into an alleyway. He tapped her crest and it, along with her tie, turned green and silver. “Harry, that’s… brilliant! But won't people be suspicious if there are Hogwarts students out and about while school is still in session?”

“Hermione’s right. We should just take the robes off,” Ron agreed. They undressed down to their shirts and bottoms, and made their way back out to the street. 

Pasted all over the walls was a poster proclaiming a notorious wizard had been shockingly released from Azkaban. They didn't pay any mind to them, and walked briskly toward Gringotts. Hermione and Harry planned on making withdrawals so they could have some funds to help their plans. Just as they reached the door, a wizard who looked around the same age as Harry’s late parents stopped them, grabbing them by the shoulders. The man was tall but slim, with long, wavy dark brown hair and twinkling blue-grey eyes. He was dressed in expensive robes, and Hermione caught sight of one of the Azkaban posters and gasped.

“You're Sirius Black!” she exclaimed. Sirius was quick to shush them, and a small smirk tugged on the corners of his lips.

“I am. And you're traveling with my best friend James’ son,” he stated as he turned to Harry. “I would recognize those glasses and that hair anywhere. You look just like him. Except for the eyes. You have—“

“My mother’s eyes. Yeah, I know,” Harry finished. “Why are you stopping us? Why are you being nice to us?” 

Sirius chuckled and began to walk them down the street. “Because I am, along with being your late father’s best friend, your godfather, Harry. And whatever brings you to Diagon Alley cannot be good, considering school is not yet out at Hogwarts and the three of you have ditched your robes somewhere,” he surmised. “You all can come back with me; I've settled back in my family’s home, and there is plenty of room.” Without another word, he apparated them out of Diagon Alley and to 12 Grimmauld Place. 

Harry looked around the dingy home. An elderly house elf was working to clean it, mumbling something about mudbloods and Sirius under his breath. Still, he trusted Sirius for some reason. If he cared enough to give them a place to hide, he couldn't be a bad guy.

“Now what's the reason behind you three not being at school?” Sirius asked, motioning for them to sit on an old velvet sofa after quick introductions were made.

“He's back. Voldemort is back,” Harry explained. “He… He killed Ron’s sister Ginny to bring a… a piece of himself, of his sixteen-year-old self, back to life. I saw him do it. And he would have killed me too if Professor Dumbledore’s phoenix hadn't flown down and saved me. Professor McGonagall told us where to go, and we fled the castle. And now we’re on the run.” Hermione noticed how Sirius’ face grew grimmer and grimmer as Harry told the story, and she had to speak up.

“Pardon me, but… Mr. Black… didn't your family support Voldemort?” she asked. Sirius laughed aloud and she took that as a “no.”

“My mother and father were pureblood fanatics, it's true,” he admitted. “But I did not hold a torch for their beliefs. When I was sorted into Gryffindor, I was the family disgrace. But that was how I met James, and Remus… you'll likely meet Remus later. My brother, Regulus, was a Death Eater, though. He was the better child, in my mother and father’s eyes, I'm sure. Slytherin, Quidditch player, model pureblood son…” Harry heard some of the bitterness in Sirius’ voice and he felt bad. He knew how it felt to grow up not feeling like you belonged, even among family. “If you're going into hiding, I think you will need a cover. And I think I have just the one.”

“We don't need a cover, we need a way to kill Voldemort!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Your fire is admirable,” Sirius smiled, “but how do you expect to kill the most powerful and infamous Dark Lord who ever lived without being capable yourself?” Hermione nodded in agreement, understanding what Sirius was implying. “As I was saying, you three need a cover. And I have one. Since I have been in prison for… years… it's safe to assume that if I’d had children, I would not know. So, you three will be my half-blood children with some muggle woman, long dead. Adoption and muggle birth certificates are easy enough to forge; we’ll say you three were in a muggle orphanage before I got out of prison.” 

“There's one problem,” Hermione pointed out. “We don't look like you. And everyone knows what Harry looks like.” Sirius grinned and pulled his wand from his robes, flicking it at Harry, whose glasses were soon transformed to more modern frames, his hair changed to a dark brown that was much longer, and his eyes reflected Sirius’ blue-grey eyes. It was a convincing change. 

“You're next, Mr. Weasley. I always was good at disguises. Once changed James into Severus Snape and pulled a right good prank on Snape one year.” Sirius chuckled at the memory and flicked his wand at Ron. 

Hermione watched as Ron’s hair turned a violent shade of purple, and his eyes became grey. His freckles disappeared, and his nose became a bit upturned. He looked like a Black who was going through a bit of a rebellious phase. She winced as Sirius turned to her, a small grin on his face. “Hm, what to do with you?” Sirius tapped his chin with his index finger. He turned to the family tree on the wall and walked around, looking at his female relatives until his gaze landed on someone around his own age. “Ah, yes. That will do quite well.” 

“What are you going to do?” Harry asked, looking at himself in a mirror. 

“While my cousin Andromeda was my favorite, I think it would be much better if Miss Granger looked like a different cousin,” he explained before he waved his wand. Hermione ran to the mirror and watched as her hair smoothed and curled properly, turning a light shade of blonde. Her eyes were a soft blue, and she realized she looked a bit like… a Malfoy. “My cousin Narcissa. She's the mother of one of your classmates, I believe.” Hermione wrinkled her nose.

“Draco is horrid,” she grumbled. 

“Most of my family is horrid,” Sirius remarked. “Which reminds me. Obviously, you three can't be going by Hermione, Ron, and Harry. So we need new names for you. Most of the males in the Noble and Ancient House of Black,” he rolled his eyes at that, “are named for constellations. Any thoughts?” 

“Perseus,” Harry decided. Sirius nodded, and Harry said the name to himself in his head. 

“A clever choice. And fitting, considering,” Sirius winked. “And how about you, Mr. Weasley. Or will I just need to pick for you?” 

“How about… uh, Castor?” he provided. As Sirius turned to Hermione, Ron cursed himself for not picking Pollux instead; it had been a Black Family name at some point in time. Hermione was deep in thought, sorting through the constellations. She was tied between Cassiopeia and Lyra.

“And I can see you're putting great consideration into this,” Sirius chuckled. “I assume you know your constellations.”

“I do,” Hermione said. “And I'm tied between two. Cassiopeia and Lyra.” Sirius smiled and sat down in his armchair again, rubbing his chin. Hermione had been skeptical of him at first, and he was certainly mischievous and would be a bad influence on Harry and Ron, but he was a good man. He would help them. 

“Well,” he began, “both are very good names. But let's consider the myths, shall we? Cassiopeia was a queen, but her vanity was… her downfall. She attempted to sacrifice her daughter to sate Poseidon when she offended him. Her daughter Andromeda married Perseus. Whereas Lyra represents the Lyre of Orpheus. He's one of the few mortals known to have visited the Underworld and lived to tell the tale. Of course, his tale is not without tragedy, you know. He went to—“

“To save his wife Eurydice,” Hermione finished for him. “He wasn't allowed to look at her as they returned to the mortal world. Orpheus failed, and she remained in the Underworld while he wandered the world for years, rejecting suitors until the women grew angry and killed him. The muses set his lyre in the stars in memory of his music.” She saw how Sirius’ eyes twinkled and she smiled. “I think Lyra is the better name. Don't you?”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” he stated. “We’ll lay low for a few days until the Order arrives, and then we’ll start planning about how we’ll get you three back to school without raising any suspicions.”

After a quiet dinner, they all retired for the evening. Harry laid in his new bed, staring up at the ceiling. Voldemort was back, and at the moment… there was nothing he could do about it.

*****

The following morning, 12 Grimmauld Place was bustling with activity. Members of the Order had already arrived, and Sirius was using the dining room table to hold a meeting. Harry was curious immediately, and crept into the room, sticking close to the walls. He wished he had his invisibility cloak, but he'd been forced to leave it behind at the school. Harry was relieved to see some familiar faces sitting at the table; a grieving Molly and Arthur Weasley, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape of all people, and Professor McGonagall.

“He has taken up residence in the castle,” Snape confirmed. “However, Riddle has not begun to terrorize the student population… yet. It is only a matter of time, of course.” His dark eyes flitted to Harry and he smirked. “Come out from the shadows, Potter. We aren't going to hurt you.”

Harry gulped and moved forward, fixing his glasses slightly. “Professor,” he nodded. 

Snape turned back to Sirius and crossed his arms. “And your plan would be to send Potter, Granger, and Weasley back to the school in disguises?” he raised a brow. “That's a bit insensitive, Black, considering the loss Mr. Weasley’s family is coping with. Not to mention, you would be risking a valuable asset.” Dumbledore looked at Harry curiously, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. 

“I want to go back,” Harry said. “I don't care if I have to wait years to avenge my parents and Ginny. I want to finish Riddle myself.” 

Just as he spoke, Hermione and Ron tumbled in behind him. Ron’s toothbrush was still in his mouth and his still-violet hair was a mess. The Weasleys rose to their feet and embraced him, thanking Sirius for finding him and taking him in. A brunette man with a scar down his face observed Harry, and Harry found himself wondering if he was the Remus fellow Sirius had mentioned.

“What if an adult infiltrated the castle?” the man inquired. “Riddle already plans to make Snape Headmaster. No doubt he’ll reinstate Slughorn as Potions Master, meaning there will be an opening in Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts.” 

“Are you suggesting that one of us apply for the positions?” Sirius asked.

“I'm suggesting that you and I apply for the positions. Severus has already confirmed that Riddle doesn't know everything about what happened after his fifth year of school. That was the flaw in his plan; he knows Harry defeats him someday, but he doesn't know who helps, or what he becomes. He's just an angry boy now. You have a good pureblood name, Sirius, and if your ‘children’ enroll it would make sense that you want to be close to them. And… Severus will brew enough Wolfsbane potion to keep my… condition in check,” Remus gave Snape a stern look.

“Of course,” Snape agreed. “I'll get the paperwork all sorted. And I'll return during the summer to help Potter, Granger, and Weasley prepare to go back to school. They will need some skills that will help them if they encounter Riddle.”

“What would we need to learn?” Hermione asked. “Besides having our stories straight, that is.”

“Tom Riddle, even as a fifth year, was already fairly skilled at Legilimency. If you run into him, it's best you have some Occlumency skills,” Snape explained. “I will instruct the three of you.” While Harry started to protest, Hermione shot him a look. Snape had dealt with a fully-grown Voldemort; he would know how to stay one step ahead of a teenaged one. 

It was then that Hermione noticed something was definitely different. “Harry! Your scar is gone!” she gasped before turning to Sirius. “How did you hide it?” Sirius looked confused.

“There wasn't a scar there when I changed his appearance,” Sirius stated.

Dumbledore rose from his seat, a small, knowing smile on his face. “I believe that Tom Riddle tried to create horcruxes in order to obtain immortality,” he told them. “His diary must have been his first, and all following horcruxes—accidental or not—have been destroyed since they did not exist when the Dark Lord was sixteen.” Harry gaped at him.

“Do you mean… that… that I was a horcrux, Professor?” he inquired. 

“An accidental one, yes,” he answered. “That night in Godric’s Hollow, when the killing curse rebounded and destroyed Tom Riddle… well, I believe a little piece of his soul latched on to the only living thing around. You. But now that he has returned in a younger form, his later horcruxes have ceased to exist.”

“Making him more vulnerable,” Hermione realized.

“Making him easier to kill,” Harry pointed out.

“Exactly,” Sirius clapped his hands together. “Now, we, children, must get ready for the day. We’re going to go on our first family outing while Remus and Severus work out the details of the open positions at Hogwarts. Go on!” His smile was infectious, and the three ran back out of the room and up the stairs to get dressed. “It will be a good test to see if they're believable. Voldemort’s supporters won't be out in full force just yet. How strong are those disguise charms, Dumbledore?”

“The strongest I've seen since Gellert Grindelwald assumed the appearance of the American Auror Percival Graves,” Dumbledore observed. “They will need to learn how to behave like the children of a man from a distinguished pureblood family.”

“It won't matter,” Sirius dismissed. “They'll get sorted back into Gryffindor; no one will care how they behave.” 

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore mused. “Though you know the Sorting Hat is very perceptive; it knows where a student’s talents and ambitions will best be served… It’s a talk for another time, of course, but you may need to prepare them to be sorted elsewhere.” Sirius bit his tongue and nodded. It seemed like blasphemy to imagine James’ son anywhere but Gryffindor, but Dumbledore was right.

“Very well,” he sighed. “But not today.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned downstairs, dressed in fresh clothes. Professor McGonagall had brought them their trunks from their dormitories. Sirius shook his head at their disheveled clothing and sighed.

“It seems we’ll be starting our day at Madam Malkin’s,” he laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trio begins to try and adjust to life as Sirius' "children." Hermione experiences a major coming-of-age moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've got another chapter done! 
> 
> Warning: there are some descriptions of dealing with a first period, because I did the math and Hermione, like me, has an early birthday for her class and she would be approaching 14 as their third year starts, making me think that she probably would have her period sometime around second or third year. And I've never really had bad periods, so I apologize if you don't agree with what Hermione is experiencing.

Voldemort had been back less than twenty-four hours and already there was a weight in the wizarding world. The very air in Diagon Alley seemed heavy and tense and dark. Hermione noticed that Sirius seemed to have the same perception as she was, judging by the faltering grin on his face. “In you go, children,” he stated as he steered the three of them into Madam Malkin’s. The witch seemed surprised to see Sirius, but didn't hesitate to have Harry get up on the little platform so she could start taking his measurements with an enchanted tape measure. 

“What’ll he be needing, Sirius?” she asked, a smile on her face as usual. It seemed a bit forced, and they all knew why. Voldemort’s return always meant hard times for businesses.

“Well, he won't be needing dress robes like I used to all the time,” he chuckled. “Something practical, but one that suits a young man of his station, I suppose. A few pairs of robes, I guess, and I'll leave their appearance to your knowledgeable hands. And best save those measurements; we’ll be back sometime in August to get him school robes.” The witch nodded and sent the newly recorded measurements to the back of her shop. Ron went up next and it was more of the same, and then Hermione got up. 

“Aren't you a pretty little thing?” Madam Malkin praised. “Anything you'd like in particular, dear?” 

“Nothing… green,” Hermione wrinkled her nose. 

Sirius laughed aloud, as did Ron and Harry. “My apologies. Even though you'll find she resembles my cousin Narcissa she holds no loyalties for Slytherin.” Madam Malkin nodded, finishing Hermione’s measurements. 

“Yes, the resemblance is… remarkable,” purred a voice from behind them.

Sirius turned around and Harry could sense how tense he became. He turned also, and tried to hide his disdain when he laid eyes on Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Ron and Hermione soon followed his lead, and Hermione raised a brow. 

“Children, this is Lucius Malfoy,” Sirius introduced. “And his wife, Narcissa.” 

“Cousin Narcissa,” she corrected for him as she crouched down to look at her newest cousins. “All the same age, I see… how many different women, Sirius?” Harry resisted the urge to hex her, and he could tell that Sirius was definitely biting his tongue. Narcissa’s gaze fell on Hermione and she smiled coldly. “My, you are a pretty one.” Her hand cupped Hermione’s chin as she examined her curiously. “You will be a great beauty, to be sure. What are your names?” 

“Lyra,” Hermione provided, prompting the boys to do the same. 

Sirius nodded curtly after introductions had been made and straightened his robes. “Well, now that we’re introduced, I believe we must be on our way. If I remember right, Lya wishes to go to Flourish and Blotts, and the boys would like to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies and try out broomsticks.”

Lucius raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Will your children be attending Hogwarts next school year?” he asked. “That's rather late, is it not? They look to be about Draco’s age.” 

“Father’s arranged for us to have a tutor so we’re ready to go,” Hermione said confidently.

With that, Sirius, Harry, Ron, and Hermione said goodbye to them and made their way out into the street. Sirius seemed relieved; Narcissa and Lucius hadn't seen through the disguises at all. Hermione tugged his hand as they passed Flourish and Blotts and he put a few sickles in her hand. She thanked him, and made her way in with Ron and Harry trailing hot on her heels. They disappeared deep into the stacks before Harry spoke again.

“Do you think they bought it?” he whispered. Hermione nodded.

“Narcissa was convinced as was Lucius,” she replied. “But of course, they're not like Riddle. Who knows if he’ll see through it… then we’re…”

“Dead,” Ron finished for her. 

The boys watched as Hermione grabbed a few books off the shelves about varying subjects, including a book about Salazar Slytherin, before taking them to the shopkeeper and paying for them. Ron and Harry both gave her a look and she shrugged. “If, on the off chance, we do end up being sorted into Slytherin this time around, we need to be educated. I bought a few books about the house and its founder because I'm going to be prepared if I find myself face-to-face with Tom Riddle,” she stated. They went back out onto the street where Sirius was waiting. He and the boys disappeared into the Quidditch shop, so Hermione sat down at Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlor, ordered a scoop of earl grey and lavender ice cream, and opened a book. 

As she read, Hermione couldn't help but feel as though she was being watched. When she reached the end of a paragraph, she looked up and peered over her shoulder. 

A young man was sitting at a cafe table, same as her, with a book—no, a journal—opened in front of him. He had a dish of what looked like Butterbeer ice cream, but it was melting and appeared untouched. He was watching her intently, and Hermione instinctively flushed. He was handsome, with dark, wavy hair and what her mother would have called “aristocratic features.” A strong brow and jaw, high cheekbones, and fresh, bright complexion made him seem almost too pretty, but his eyes told a different story. They were dark and weary; they were not the eyes of a boy who could only be about sixteen.

Hermione felt her heart beat faster as he got up and started to walk over to her and she cursed her thirteen-year-old hormones as she shifted slightly under his gaze. 

“An interesting read,” he said, motioning to her book. “Not a lot of people bother to learn about Salazar Slytherin. Most just write him off as a baddie and never take another look at him or his house.” Hermione raised a brow at this and stuck her nose in the air like she imagined Narcissa would do.

“I take it upon myself to learn about everything I can,” she sniffed. The young man raised a brow and sat down opposite her.

“As do I,” he smirked as he stuck out his hand for a shake. “Callum. Callum Conway.” 

Hermione had a strange feeling that he wasn't telling her his real name, but she didn't hesitate to shake his hand. “Lyra Black,” she said. His lips quirked up in a smirk, but the rest of his face remained the picture of cool indifference as he sat back in his seat.

“Black? As in the pureblood family?” he inquired. Hermione nodded. “Then your father is… Sirius? I read that he'd just been released from Azkaban. You must be so happy.”

“I am, considering I spent most of my youth in an orphanage,” she quipped. “Mum was a muggle, you see. She was living in London when my two brothers and I were born. Dad was there to see her give birth and to help name us, but next thing you know he's accused of killing those muggles and Peter Pettigrew. Mum was so heartbroken she died when we were two months old. No one was around for us, so we were sent away. Even old Albus Dumbledore didn't know where we were, so we just got our Hogwarts letters this past week. They've got a new Headmaster though, it seems.” 

Hermione noticed how the young man seemed tense at the mention, but as soon as he realized she could tell, he relaxed instantly. “Yes, it was about time Dumbledore left; he was getting a bit too old for the job,” he hummed. “It was wonderful talking to you, Miss Black. I hope I will see you at Hogwarts in the autumn.” 

Just as he walked away, Sirius and the boys appeared in front of the ice cream parlor. Harry was holding a brand-new broom, and Ron had a quaffle tucked under his arm. 

“Who was that you were talking to?” Harry asked. 

“Honestly, I don't know,” Hermione admitted as she got to her feet. Harry and Ron exchanged looks and followed Sirius down the street. 

“Well what was his name?” Ron questioned. “Surely you of all people remembered to get a name.” 

“His name was Callum,” Hermione informed. “Now could you stop bothering me? It's like you think it's impossible for a boy to talk to me!” She huffed and walked ahead of them. Both Ron and Harry frowned, and Sirius tried to hide his amusement. She reminded him a bit of Lily in how she could easily shut down Harry and Ron. 

Upon returning to Grimmauld Place, they were greeted by Remus and Snape, who appeared to have good news.

“I'm pleased to inform you that you've been hired as the new Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts,” Remus handed Sirius the official letter. “I'll be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Snape is now the Headmaster.” Sirius nodded and pocketed the letter. “And Slughorn has agreed to come back and teach Potions.” 

“Charming. I've always wanted to instruct a teenaged Voldemort,” Sirius joked. 

He and Remus went off to chat about lessons and strategies with dealing with Riddle in class—Snape had discovered that the newly resurrected Dark Lord wished to finish his education, now going under the name Thomas Gaunt, taking his mother’s name. Severus turned his gaze to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “You three will need to start practicing Occlumency as soon as possible,” he told them both sternly. “I fear it will be difficult for you, Mr. Potter, and also for you, Mr. Weasley. Miss Granger… well, I'm curious to see how you will do.” There seemed to be a bit of a threat in his voice and Hermione clenched her fists at her sides. 

“I've no doubt Miss Granger will be able to master Occlumency in no time,” Dumbledore noted from behind Snape. “A practical, analytical mind will always take to the skill with more ease.”

The rest of the evening was spent discussing strategy and learning the basics of Occlumency. By the time supper rolled around, Hermione had already attempted using the skill once, and had successfully blocked Snape from seeing some basic memories. This earned her a snide remark from the ever-judgmental professor, but he was secretly pleased. 

“I'm beginning to think that Miss Granger will be better prepared to face Tom than Harry,” Snape remarked. “And Mr. Weasley… well, let us hope you never find yourself alone with the Dark Lord.” Ron colored slightly and picked at his food. 

“Can you all do Occlumency?” Harry inquired, looking around the table. He knew Snape could, and he imagined Professor Dumbledore could as well. Remus and Sirius both nodded. 

“Remus is quite good at it,” Sirius said. “I make a good go if it myself, considering. It's something you try and learn if you'll be spending time in Azkaban. It certainly gave me plenty of time to practice…” 

“Then we’re going back in well defended,” Hermione declared. “Especially if the rumors are true and Voldemort isn't as strong as he was as an adult. Besides, he's a teenaged boy. I'm sure he can be distracted, same as any. Do we know if he liked Quidditch or girls or had any bad habits that could serve as a distraction?” Snape raised a brow; he was surprised to see Granger propose some cunning ideas to stop Riddle from becoming powerful quickly. 

“He was not one for athletics, from what I understand,” Snape began, “I think I learned once that he had tried out for the Slytherin Quidditch team, but had been cut. He has never had an interest for women, and vices… do murder and torture count?” 

“I'm afraid not,” Hermione pursed her lips. “Well, we’ll just have to see. Maybe he's operating differently this time around. He's already given himself an alias that aligns him with a pureblood house. A fallen and disgraced pureblood house, but it's all the same.”

“Well whatever he's planning, we need to be ready,” Harry grumbled.

*****

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she was vaguely aware of a warm, sticky wetness between her legs. She sat up slowly, feeling pain in her lower abdomen as she did so, and pulled back the comforter. A bolt of dread shot through her when she saw her pajama bottoms and her bedsheets were soaked in blood. “Oh no…” she mumbled. Her mother had talked to her about getting her first period, but she hadn't imagined she would be having it without her around. 

Carefully getting out of bed, Hermione pulled on her bathrobe and summoned Kreacher. The house-elf was surprisingly understanding and changed the bed for her, and disappeared to get some hygiene products from somewhere on Diagon Alley. Hermione then opened her bedroom door and was relieved to see that all the others were still asleep. She cautiously made her way to the bathroom, hating the leaking feeling she was experiencing, and turned on the shower. 

When she finished cleaning herself off, she found the hygiene products on the sink. They looked similar to things one would find at a muggle chemist’s, but with twists; sanitary pads charmed not to leak, tampons that guarded against the metallic smell that Hermione found made her rather paranoid. Kreacher had even somehow known to buy her the “slim” tampons, and, seeing as she couldn't stand the terrible feeling of her uterine wall literally evacuating her body, inserted one. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but she got used to it eventually. 

Picking up her ruined pajamas, she made her way back to her room, finding she could walk much more normally now. Hermione tossed the pajamas into her hamper, and got dressed for the day. It was funny; she always thought she would feel differently when she got her first period. Like she would feel like a woman, or a goddess from all those tacky commercials on muggle television. Instead, she felt normal outside of the fact that she was bleeding and would be bleeding for the next three to five days.

Once her hair was up in a ponytail (it was still strange to see it so smooth and blonde), she made her way downstairs where she found Sirius and Remus sitting on the sofa. They seemed to be waiting for her—Sirius looked like he was about to be sick he was so pale—and she raised a brow.

“May I help you?” she asked. 

“Oh bloody hell I can't—“

“Sirius,” Remus shot his friend a look. “Hermione, uh, Kreacher told us that… uh… you got a bit of a surprise this morning?” Hermione’s face soon mirrored that of Sirius’s. Were they attempting to give her The Talk? 

“Yes, but it's quite alright,” she told them. “My mother already talked to me about it.” 

“Well you hear that, Remus? Her mother already told her about all that business so we don't have to!” Sirius started to get up but Remus pulled him back down by the tails of his jacket. 

“You know how to handle your… ahem, courses… in the muggle way, but there are things you can do as a witch that you can't as a muggle,” Remus said. Hermione found herself less nervous with Remus talking about such things; he had the sort of demeanor that reminded her of her muggle doctor. “There are much better painkillers and potions you can take for the pain, and if you don't want to deal with your period at all, there are contraceptive potions. That's a talk for another day, of course, but you deserve to be informed because Merlin knows some girls aren't taught a thing.” Hermione nodded awkwardly and rocked forward on the balls of her feet.

“Well, erm, thanks,” she managed. Just as she spoke, Harry and Ron came downstairs, both of them puzzled as to why Remus, Sirius, and Hermione were having an informal meeting. 

Sirius seemed relieved as they made their way to breakfast and she couldn't blame him one bit. Never in her life had she imagined herself getting a period talk from two middle-aged wizards. Perhaps she could imagine getting the period talk from Madam Pomfrey or Professor McGonagall if it had happened at school, but… never had she imagined getting it from an ex-convict and a werewolf.

After breakfast, they all were subjected to more Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape, and he also worked their cover story into them until they all had perfectly coordinating tales.

“Your stories are perfect,” he stated. “But… you are going to have to be more than perfect if you must face the Dark Lord. You have to believe your own story. If not, things could become… complicated very quickly.” Snape emphasized “very quickly” and Hermione saw Ron gulp in the corner of her eye. Harry was nodding intensely; he'd started to pick up on very basic Occlumency, and was making progress during their second day. 

“Yes, Professor,” Hermione mumbled. 

After their lesson was done, they were free to do as they wished. Harry went into the garden and flew around on his new broom. It was a brand-new model, a Firebolt, and not many people had gotten their hands on one yet. It was ridiculously fast, and hard to contain in the small garden, but he grew comfortable on it. Hermione went up to her bedroom and took a nap; she found that performing magic while on her period was a bit tiring, but she chalked it up to her just not being used to it yet. Ron, of course, raided the pantries and turned on a Quidditch match on the radio.

She soon found herself thinking of the mysterious stranger from the other day, and she found herself realizing that something was somewhat off about him. Besides the obvious, he had said one tell-tale thing that showed he wasn't really who he said he was.

He knew who Dumbledore was, yet why wasn't he at school?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Lupin are basically the dads of this fic, have you noticed? They'll be important at Hogwarts too!
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos/comments!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sorting Hat leaves the Golden Trio separated, and Hermione discovers her mysterious stranger's true identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay they're finally at Hogwarts! Time to see how the Sorting Hat feels about having to sort them again...  
> Also, I don't have as many chapters already written for this fic as I do my other Tomione one; so bear with me as I try to figure out where this is going. I have two more chapters done after this one right now.

As the summer passed, Hermione grew cold and hard. She continued to work on her Occlumency skills, and before long Professor Snape could not access any of her memories, nor read her feelings or thoughts. Remus—or Professor Lupin, as she began to call him—taught her and Harry new spells lest they found themselves in a dark corner with a suspicious Dark Lord. She wrote to her parents, telling them what was going on, and told them not to worry. Hermione knew they would, but she felt like they needed to know she was safe. In the end, though, she had decided that her safety was not of paramount if it meant that Voldemort could be defeated. If she had to sacrifice herself for the greater good, she would do it. 

The week before they were supposed to go to Hogwarts arrived; Perseus, Castor, and Lyra Black all received their Hogwarts letters to start as third years, so they made their way to Diagon Alley in the afternoon with Sirius to purchase school supplies. Their trunks had been transfigured to bear their new initials and removed their Gryffindor crests, so their main reason to go to Diagon Alley was to buy new school books and robes. 

Once more, they found themselves bumping into the Malfoys in Madam Malkin’s. This time around, of course, they had Draco with them, who sneered at his cousins immediately.

“Draco, this is your cousin Sirius Black, and his children Perseus, Castor, and Lyra,” Narcissa stated. “They will be attending Hogwarts this year, so I want you to make them feel welcome.” Draco sniffed indifferently and his gaze flitted over them. 

“One thing’s for sure, school will be much better with Potter and his sidekicks gone,” he muttered. Harry, Ron, and Hermione remained poised and Hermione went as far to scowl indignantly.

“It's just proof that he could never defeat the Dark Lord,” she quipped. “The way he ran.”

“Don't speak about him,” Draco hissed. “Filthy little half-blood. Just because we’re cousins doesn't mean—“

“That's enough, Draco,” Narcissa scolded. “I imagine we’ll see you at King’s Cross, Sirius?” Hermione appreciated her attempt to appear well-mannered; even if she was a bigot like her husband and her son, she had enough class not to be such a git. 

“Yes, you will. I'll actually be heading off with the students; you see, I’ll be the new Transfiguration professor this year, since McGonagall has resigned,” he explained. 

Narcissa raised a brow skeptically and Hermione wondered what she was thinking. Curious, she reached out with her magic to try and see if she could get into her mind, but Hermione was surprised to find very strong defenses. It made sense though; if your own husband and sister were Death Eaters, you would want your thoughts protected. The blonde turned and looked at her quizzically as soon as Hermione pulled her magic back. 

“What did you just do?” she asked. 

“Nothing,” Hermione replied simply, blinking confusedly at her. Narcissa seemed suspicious, but didn't further the conversation. 

“See you at school, cousin,” Draco taunted. 

As they made their way down the street toward Florean Fortescue’s, Hermione found herself wondering about just who Callum might be and why he wasn't at school that day. She also wondered if they would run into him again. The thought made her nervous, and she found she wasn't really craving ice cream, so she asked if she could head to the secondhand bookshop instead. As usual, Sirius gave his approval and she made her way down the street. The other bookshop on Diagon Alley was much quieter, and much older. Hermione secretly preferred it over Flourish and Blotts because it was rarely as crowded, and she could find rare books if she looked far enough into the stacks. Some of them were even in Ancient Runes, which Hermione had yet to take at Hogwarts, but she had been put in the class this year. Well, Lyra Black would be taking the class.

She browsed the titles on the third floor, her fingers skimming over the spines of the books until she found something that looked interesting. It was in Ancient Runes, though the cover clearly depicted a witch. Hermione was intrigued, and decided she would try to work on translating it. 

The old witch who ran the shop, Madam Barlow, scuttled past her and eyed the volume curiously. “Ah,” she chuckled. “That's a rare one there. But… for Sirius’s daughter? Five sickles.” Hermione thanked her and handed over the money, tucking the book into her robes that she was wearing. Just as she turned to leave, she heard the tinkle of bells, signaling that someone had walked into the shop. She looked down, expecting to find Harry and Ron waiting for her, only to spy none other than Callum, who looked up at her with a grin. It didn't reach his eyes.

“Miss Black,” he bowed to her. “Fancy seeing you here.” Hermione made her way down the spiral staircase and walked up to him. 

“It's lovely to see you again, Mr. Conway. Shopping for back-to-school?” she inquired. 

Hermione couldn't help but look him over discretely; he was dressed rather nicely, with black trousers with a good crease, and a black jumper with a grey shirt beneath it. The jumper’s sleeves were pushed up past his elbows, and his shirtsleeves were rolled. He caught her staring and her gaze fell to her shoes. He had black loafers on that Hermione was fairly certain she had seen in Harrods before, and she realized that he had to be a half-blood with a really wealthy muggle parent.

“No, no, I've already got all that taken care of,” he told her. “What about you?” 

“My father and brothers and I finished all our school shopping. They're over at the ice cream parlor, but I really wanted to come in and look at the books. I… I’ve only ever gone to Flourish and Blotts and I heard you can find some truly interesting volumes here if you look hard enough,” Hermione smiled. Callum laughed, but Hermione felt it sounded… forced.

“So I imagine I'll find you in the library once you're at school?” he teased. “But you're right; you can find plenty of interesting books here… even some on Dark magic, if you want.” 

Hermione felt a chill run down her spine.

“Why would anyone want to read about Dark magic considering all the trouble you could get into?” she asked rather naively. Hermione bit her lip as he backed her up against a shelf full of books. “Callum… how old are you?”

“Well, first, one would want to learn about Dark magic so they can learn about everything. There's a whole other side of magic that we don't get to learn because of our education at Hogwarts, and I for one want to be aware of it all,” he murmured. “And, if you must know, I am sixteen. I'll turn seventeen in the winter. How old are you, Lyra?”

“Thirteen,” she mumbled. “Fourteen in September.”

“Merlin, I would have taken you for older,” Callum remarked as he pulled away. “You're practically a baby.” Hermione scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Almost fourteen isn't that young,” she argued. “Maybe it seems young now, but it won't be later!” 

There was a pounding on the glass and they both turned to see Lucius Malfoy staring wide-eyed into the shop. Hermione’s brows furrowed together at the sight of him and wondered why he was bothering them. She glanced around the shop; other than Madam Barlow, she and Callum were the only ones in the shop.

“Ah,” Callum sighed as he began to stride toward the door. “I will see you on the train, Lyra.”

Hermione watched in shock as he left the shop, disappearing into the busy streets. Lucius shot her one more angry glare before going his own way. Besides being absolutely bizarre, Hermione felt like Callum was following her. The fact that they had encountered each other twice now during two separate trips to Diagon Alley could not be a coincidence. 

When she returned to Florean Fortescue’s, Sirius, Harry, and Ron were devouring a giant ice cream sundae. Ron had chocolate syrup all over his face, and Hermione frowned.

“Find anything interesting?” Sirius inquired as he sat back, wiping his face.

“I found a book that's written in Ancient Runes. I plan on working on translating it during this school year,” Hermione announced. Ron and Harry paid her no mind, and ate ice cream until they both had stomachaches. 

When they returned to Grimmauld Place, Hermione considered telling Sirius and Remus about the encounter with Lucius and Callum, but she decided against it. The logical part of her brain was telling her that it had to have been a coincidence; that Lucius had gone to the wrong shop, or he had mistaken her or Callum for someone else. After all, why would Lucius Malfoy go anywhere near the secondhand bookshop? He would probably rather be caught in robes with last season’s patterns. 

To ease her mind, Hermione took out her new book and her Ancient Runes textbook. She started with the cover, since that would give her an idea as to what she was reading. It took her an hour or so with cross-referencing both texts, but eventually she had a rough translation scratched on some parchment.

“‘The Tome of Morgana,’” Hermione mumbled to herself. It sounded like a bunch of rubbish, perhaps some wizard-fiction, but she made a note to research it in the library at Hogwarts when she arrived. 

*****

The day finally arrived and the Black Family made their first trip to King’s Cross together. Hermione was dressed in a ruby red jumper and a chocolate pleated skirt and brown loafers; her hair was tied back in a braid, as it had gotten long during the summer. The boys were dressed similarly, while Sirius was wearing black robes. He helped them get onto the train, and he went off to sit with Remus in a different compartment, leaving Hermione, Ron, and Harry alone. 

“Do you think we’ll get sorted with all the first years?” Ron wrinkled his nose at the thought. 

“I doubt it,” Hermione replied. “We’ll probably be sorted separately, either before or after the first years, because we are the children of a new professor.” She bit her lip, feeling nervous at the thought of being singled out even more than usual to be sorted. Hermione wondered briefly what house Callum was in, but she pushed him from her mind. She didn't trust him. Not one bit. 

“Great,” Harry grumbled. “As if we need anymore attention.”

To pass the time, Hermione opened her Ancient Runes textbook and pulled out the Tome of Morgana. She flipped to the first page, and was amazed at how old and brittle the pages felt. It must have been a very early edition of the book. Hermione looked for a publisher’s mark, but when she didn't find one, she was shocked. It had to be an original. 

The translation was proving to be fairly difficult. There were some runes that her textbook didn't even list, which made it hard to understand what the book was about. Hermione wondered if she could write to Dumbledore or McGonagall to ask if they knew anything about it, but decided against it. Riddle could easily intercept any messages heading to the old Headmaster. She wondered if any mail made it in or out of Hogwarts without him knowing about it or perusing it. She doubted it. 

When the train arrived, Hermione was relieved when she and the boys were ushered toward the carriages to head up to the castle. The three of them rode together, and she smoothed the plain school robes she was wearing, wishing she had her Gryffindor robes instead. Still, Hogwarts was like home, and even though Dumbledore was gone, they would still be safe with Sirius, Remus, and Snape around. 

Remus was waiting for them as they entered the hall, and they were taken to the front before the first years could enter.

“Greetings and welcome back to Hogwarts, students,” Snape drawled as he rose to his feet. “This year, we have new students joining us for their third year of school. Please welcome Lyra, Perseus, and Castor Black. They will be sorted before the first years. Castor…” he motioned Ron forward and he sat on the stool, and Professor Flitwick put the hat on his head. 

“Hmm… better be… Hufflepuff!” the Sorting Hat declared rather quickly. 

“Lyra,” Snape summoned her forward and Hermione sat down on the ancient stool, crossing her legs at her ankles as the hat was placed on her head.

_A keen mind, yes, and very brave… haven't I sorted you before?_ the Hat inquired. _No matter. Everyone changes, and you seem to have changed a great deal. A calculating mind, and clever… there is a House that would serve you very well._

“Slytherin!” The Sorting Hat shouted. 

Hermione froze and looked at the cheering army of silver and green. She turned and looked back at Sirius, who raised his glass to her. Steeling her composure, Hermione stuck her nose in the air and walked over as proudly as she could. She was shocked when Pansy Parkinson scooted over to her.

“You're Draco’s cousin?” she whispered. Hermione nodded. “You'll be rooming with me. Pansy Parkinson. That's Millicent, and Daphne.” She pointed to two girls that Hermione recognized from her past classes. She especially remembered Millicent.

“Lyra,” Hermione said, shaking her hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“We have a new Prefect this year,” Pansy murmured. “Well, we get new ones every year. But he just came to school here; his name is Thomas Gaunt. An ancient family name, to be sure. Older even than yours, though I thought they were all gone. Rumor has it he's related to the Dark Lord in some way.” Hermione tried not to snort. 

“Oh? And where is this infamous new Prefect?” she inquired. Harry sat down at Gryffindor table and Hermione knew Sirius would be pleased. 

“Welcome to Slytherin, Miss Black,” a familiar voice purred behind her. Hermione tensed and felt her hand grip her wand inside her robes. “It's always an honor to have a member of such a distinguished family join our ranks.” She turned around slowly, and nearly gaped. 

How could she have been so stupid?!

“Lyra, this is Thomas Gaunt,” Pansy introduced. “Our newest Prefect.”

“Charmed, I'm sure,” Hermione mumbled as she shook his hand. She was still in shock that the charming young man she'd met in Diagon Alley was actually Voldemort of all people. She was quick to close off her mind, as she was sure that he would be curious. His lips brushed over her knuckles, and Hermione tried her hardest not to frown. “And Gaunt, is it? I could have sworn I'd heard that family had fallen from grace.” 

“I don't think the daughter of an ex-convict has room to talk,” Riddle retorted. Without another word, he returned to his seat among the other sixth year Slytherins. 

Hermione stayed quiet for the rest of the feast, picking at her food absentmindedly. She could only imagine that Ron and Harry were enjoying themselves immensely, considering they were in friendly houses where you didn't have to sleep with one eye open. Still, all her training during the summer had prepared her for having to deal with Riddle; she was getting the opportunity to put herself to the test on the front lines against him. 

Halfway through the feast, Professor Snape stood up again. “Before you all wander off to your common rooms and dormitories to sleep off the inevitable stomachaches you all will have, I must introduce you all to the newest members of our staff. Your new Transfiguration professor, Sirius Black, and your new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin.”

Everyone gave their new teachers a respectful round of applause, while Hermione beamed up at Sirius, as would be expected of his daughter.

After dessert, the Prefects led the students to their common rooms and dormitories. Hermione glared daggers at the back of Riddle’s head as he led the Slytherins down to the dungeons. She fell into step alongside Pansy, and was surprised when Draco walked up to her.

“Welcome to Slytherin, cousin,” he remarked. “Hope you can keep up.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Hermione sniffed. 

“Welcome to Slytherin common room,” Tom stated as he led everyone in. His voice was smooth and had a deep, calm quality to it. “You'll find the boys’ dormitories to the left, and the girls to the right.” Pansy led Hermione into the girls’ dormitory, where all her things had been brought. 

“Isn't he just the cutest thing you've ever seen?” Daphne Greengrass giggled as they all got dressed for bed. 

“Who?” Hermione asked, unsure as to who she was talking about.

“Thomas, of course!” she smirked. “He's what my grandmother would call ‘devastatingly handsome.’” Hermione shrugged and climbed into bed. “He has more good looks in his little finger than most of the boys in Slytherin have in their whole body.”

“I don't know about that,” Hermione mused. “I think my cousin Draco is handsome. Wouldn't you agree, Pansy?” She watched as the girl blushed.

“You'll be lucky if your father arranges for you to marry Draco,” Millicent pointed out. “Keeps the purebloods together.” Hermione pulled her bedcovers up to her chin and settled down in bed. She didn't want to burst their bubbles and tell them that Sirius couldn't care less about blood purity.

“Though with the way Thomas looked at you, I’d say you might have an older suitor,” Daphne giggled. 

Hermione shook her head. She was sure that he was simply suspicious of her, and was going to continue to keep a close eye on her. Voldemort was incapable of love or any sort of affection, after all. Anything he would do or say to her that could be construed as flirting was just a way to get her to lower her defenses.

And she could not let that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, it's so weird to see Pansy and Daphne being nice to Hermione. Well, they think she's Lyra Black, but it's still funny!
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos/a comment!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione starts her first day of classes as Lyra Black. Tom decides to take a bit of interest in her.

When she awoke the next morning, Hermione felt like her whole body was on fire.

She screamed and thrashed about, trying to get the feeling to stop. Pansy and Daphne both woke with a start; the only other person who had been awake before Hermione had been Millicent, who was holding her wand in a very incriminating way. Pansy shot her a look and ran out of the room, presumably to get a professor to help Hermione. 

What Hermione hadn't been expecting was for her to return with Riddle. She was even more surprised that boys could access the girls’ dormitories; they couldn't in the Gryffindor Tower.

“Which one of you did it?” Riddle asked in an accusatory manner.

Pansy and Daphne both shot Millicent a look, and as Riddle began to break the curse, Hermione could have sworn she heard Pansy call Millicent a “jealous cow” under her breath. Whatever Riddle had done to break the curse was powerful; the counter felt like a giant wave of icy water washing over her to put out the flames. Hermione sat up slowly, wincing as she did so.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Riddle simply nodded and turned to Millicent. He got in her face, his jaw taut and brows furrowed.

“Next time, I bring her father in,” he threatened. “Do you want to see what a man who's been to Azkaban is capable of? Because I don't think you do, Miss Bulstrode.” Millicent looked shocked, but Pansy and Daphne both looked quite satisfied with Riddle’s threat. Hermione even took some pleasure in it as Millicent gulped nervously.

“I-It won't happen again,” she stuttered. 

“It better not,” Riddle practically growled. He quickly regained his composure and bowed to the girls. “I will see you all at breakfast.”

It was only after he left that Hermione had realized that he'd only had his boxer shorts on. Hermione bit her lip, and got out of bed. Pansy and Daphne showed her to the lavatory, and Hermione was shocked at the sight of it. 

The Slytherin bathrooms reminded her of what she'd heard the Prefect bathroom looked like. There was a great big tub that could probably fit the entire house without any hesitation, and rows of showers that had sliding glass doors. Hermione assumed they were charmed, since several of them were running and she couldn't see who was in them. She made a note to try out the bath at some point, seeing as she ought to make the best of being in Slytherin, and headed for the showers. 

“They're charmed so you can see out but no one can see in,” Pansy explained to her as she entered a stall herself. Hermione thanked her and stripped once she closed the door behind her, and turned on the water. 

She set the water to be as hot as she could handle, and stood beneath the shower with a sigh. 

The sound of loud, boisterous male voices made Hermione turn and watch as Draco and his cronies had made their way inside. Hermione froze; no one had mentioned that the bathroom was co-ed. Gryffindor had always had separate lavatories. At first she began to panic, thinking that Riddle would be close behind them, but then she recalled that he was a Prefect and would likely use the Prefects’ bathroom.

When she was finished with her shower, she made her way back to the dormitory wrapped in bathrobe with her hair up in a towel. 

“Lyra, wait up!” Daphne called after her. She turned back to her as she walked and crashed into a rather solid object, falling flat on her butt. Hermione went down with a soft ‘oof’ and looked up to see what she had bumped into. 

“My apologies, Miss Black,” Riddle stated, offering his free hand. His other was holding up a plain white bath towel that was rather loosely wrapped around his hips. Hermione gaped at him for a moment; his hair was wet from his shower, and water was dripping onto his forehead. With a sniff, she took his hand and he helped her up to her feet.

“Watch where you're going next time, Gaunt,” she frowned. He raised a brow, his eyes flashing with a challenge.

“May I remind you that you are only a third year and I am your Prefect? And just because your family name is better than mine doesn't mean you can step all over everyone else,” he muttered as he pulled her close, still gripping her hand. Her robe became wet as it brushed over his body, and she was vaguely aware that he could probably feel her new-found breasts through her robe. 

Her body had gone through a fair amount of changes during the summer along with getting her period. When she was a little girl, Hermione had always wanted to be built like her mother; she remembered asking her once when she would get “boobs” and her mother had laughed. It had been a nerve-wracking thing, waiting to develop while the other girls in her year had matured sometime between years one and two. But when she did, she had, for lack of a better word, blossomed. Once, her body had been wiry and lean like her father’s, but now it was softer, with decent breasts and hips that were beginning to round. Her belly was softer but still flat, and her legs were more shapely. She was still petite, but she had a “woman’s body” now.

“Understood,” Hermione stated, but she rolled her eyes for effect. He released her, but not before throwing another threat over his shoulder at her as she made her way to her dormitory.

“Try that again next year when I'm Head Boy and I might have to punish you,” he told her. 

After getting dressed and finding that, with Narcissa’s looks, Slytherin green did suit her rather well, Hermione made her way down to the great hall with Daphne and Pansy. They sat with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, who didn't really make much conversation with her. Hermione looked down the table at Riddle, who was drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper. He had glasses on, much to her surprise, and they sat rather jauntily on his nose. 

“So what did Thomas do to become Prefect when he's new here?” she inquired, looking around the table. Pansy set down her fork and leaned in to whisper to her.

“He came to school toward the end of the year. Apparently he'd been instructed privately, but his family sent him here. Thomas closed the Chamber of Secrets, rumor has it, so Snape rewarded him with becoming a Prefect,” she murmured. 

“Interesting. What's the Chamber of Secrets?” she inquired. 

“I'll tell you later,” Pansy said. “Come on; we’re going to be late to class.” The two got up and made their way out of the hall, and Hermione acted like she didn't know where she was going and made sure to walk right beside Pansy. 

Their first class of the day was Transfiguration, and Hermione was relieved to see a familiar face in Sirius. He smiled and winked at her, and Hermione felt slightly disgusted as some of the girls swooned over her “father.” 

“Good morning class, and welcome to third year Transfiguration,” he stated. “I am your new teacher, Professor Black. You'll find that we will follow Professor McGonagall’s traditional lesson plans for this year, so don't expect any new surprises.” He grinned and turned back to the board, and began to write down the day’s discussion topic. As he did, Crabbe and Goyle began to make jokes about Azkaban and the such. 

In what felt like less than a second, Sirius was suddenly a scruffy black dog, and said dog was on top of their desk, barking at them. 

Hermione could have sworn they had soiled themselves.

“Well,” Sirius sighed as soon as he changed back to his usual form, “I had planned on waiting to introduce my other form when we discussed Animagi, but Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle both ruined that for all of us.” He turned back to the chalkboard, fixing his jacket slightly. Sirius had refused to wear the standard teacher’s robes. “Another snide comment, sirs, and you'll be spending your evenings with me for a month. And I can't guarantee which form of me you'll be met with.” 

Hermione giggled, and Pansy shot her a look.

“Your dad’s an animagus?” she inquired. Hermione nodded.

“Yeah, though he rarely goes around like that,” she replied casually. 

The rest of the class passed uneventfully, as did most of the day. Hermione didn't hold back on answering questions in all of her classes, and when they were all at supper Draco said something surprisingly nice, though of course he didn't realize who he was saying it to.

“You’re going to help us out a lot to get the House Cup,” he said. “Though it'll be much easier without Granger around.” Everyone sniggered. 

Hermione simply smiled and said nothing.

After supper, she, Harry, and Ron had a meeting with Sirius in his office. Harry and Ron both expressed relief at being in familiar, friendly houses, and they all were concerned as to how Hermione was faring in the snake pit.

“Honestly, it has been just fine,” she told them. “I'm getting along well with Pansy and Daphne. Millicent is awful, but I think she's jealous. Other than a run-in with her, it's been… uneventful thus far.” She decided to leave out the fact of her interactions with Riddle because she knew it would make them nervous. They spent the rest of the evening chatting about other things that had happened during their day, including Sirius recounting his encounter with Crabbe and Goyle that morning.

By the time they were through, it was almost curfew, so they all crept quietly out of his office. 

Hermione had almost made it to the entrance to Slytherin common room when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. She cursed under her breath and turned guiltily toward the Prefect approaching her. It was none other than Riddle himself.

“Miss Black,” he hummed. “I must say I am rather shocked. Breaking curfew on the first day? That's not the kind of behavior I expect from a professor’s child.”

Hermione bit back a scowl. “I didn't know how late it was. I was speaking with my father and I lost track of time. It won't happen again, I promise,” she stated, her voice laced with annoyance. “I'm rather tired, Gaunt, and I would like to go to bed.” He grabbed her arm and shoved her into the wall.

“This arrogance will not be tolerated when I am Head Boy next year,” he hissed. “You will behave.” 

“Or what?” Hermione challenged. “What can you do? Give me detention? Take away House points? You have no power over me, Gaunt. Get over your delusions of grandeur and let me go!” She wrenched her arm from his grip, huffing and muttering the password to the common room. Before she could even cross the threshold, he threw a hex at her and she froze, falling flat on her face. Hermione felt Riddle lift her up by the back of her robe, and she found herself face-to-face with him.

“You will submit to me, Black. One way or another, you will obey me,” he growled. He must have released her from the hex as she was able to scramble away from him and into her dormitory. The others were all asleep, so she quickly stripped out of her uniform and tugged on a plain nightgown. Riddle still hadn't seen through her disguise or her new identity, but Hermione was worried. He'd taken a special interest in her, it seemed, and Voldemort rarely didn't get what he wanted. 

But what did he want from her? She was just a third year. While she was capable of magic of that of a fourth or fifth year, she didn't have any remarkable gifts or powers. The Black Family did have a lot of money, but Sirius would never support him and Voldemort had the Malfoys for that. He'd had Regulus in his ranks before, but it was a known fact that Sirius hadn't supported him. Most didn't know about his role in the opposition, but they imagined him to be a neutral figure. 

So why was he so fixated on her?

She decided it was a question for Professor Dumbledore, so she wrote a letter to Kreacher back at Grimmauld Place with instructions to take the note to Dumbledore. It was all in code, of course, with Hermione referring to Dumbledore as “Fawkes” instead. It wasn't a long note; it was simply inquiring as to why the newest Prefect of Slytherin House would take an interest in her. She sent it away in the morning after receiving her post, which contained a letter from Professor McGonagall and a few magazines with robe fashions that she shared with Pansy.

Once again, her day was boring, for the most part. She answered every one of Lupin’s questions in Defence Against the Dark Arts, earning Slytherin twenty points in one class. Lunch was spent gossiping and giggling with Pansy and Daphne, and dinner was spent listening to Draco brag about how well he was going to do at Quidditch tryouts. 

When she returned to her dormitory (well before curfew, to avoid Riddle), Hermione was surprised to find Fawkes sitting on her bed. The phoenix squawked at her, and she stroked his beak before taking the note he'd delivered to her and opening it.

_Dear Miss Black,_

__

__

I find that sometimes the strangest of places can yield the most reliable of answers. 

A. D.

Hermione frowned; leave it to Dumbledore to never be able to answer something straightforwardly. She tried to think about strange places in Hogwarts, and one classroom kept coming to mind, and one teacher in particular. 

*****

“Oh, my dear, come in, come in!” Professor Trelawney waved Hermione inside. “Sit, sit.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione smiled slightly. She had not signed up for Divination, as she saw it as an unsound magic, but going off of Dumbledore’s note, Professor Trelawney seemed like the person she needed to talk to. “Professor… I was wondering if you had given any prophecies lately?” They were drinking tea together, and she had promised to read Hermione’s leaves later. 

“Hm? Oh, yes, actually,” the woman stated absentmindedly. “In my N.E.W.T. Level Divination class yesterday. To Mr. Gaunf? He's a Prefect of your house, is he not?” Hermione nodded. “A strange boy, he is. Such a dark aura for one so young.”

“Could you possibly recall what the prophecy was?” Hermione pried slightly. 

As if on cue, Professor Trelawney seemed to fall into a trance. 

“The Hidden Girl will soon face Death… Fifteen autumns come and gone… A dreamless sleep for them to keep… with Serpent’s Heir to shadows seek… lest the stone melt to flesh… to end a dark unending rest…”

Hermione gaped. She felt like she was in a fairy tale. And if the same prophecy had been spoken to Riddle, she could understand his concern and his curiosity toward her now. 

“Professor…” she trailed off. 

Trelawney seemed unaware that she had even given a prophecy in the first place, and Hermione quickly thanked her for the tea before scurrying off toward Sirius’ office. She had to tell him what she'd heard. He sat and listened to her attentively before calling Lupin to hear the prophecy as well.

“And that is it, word by word?” Lupin inquired.

“Yes,” Hermione replied. “Lupin, what could this mean? Obviously the Hidden Girl is me. And the fifteen autumns refer to my birthday next year. We all know who the Serpent’s Heir is…” She had been trying to keep from coming to conclusions about what the prophecy meant. She wanted someone else to come to the conclusion. “It reminds me of a muggle fairy tale that my mother used to tell me… The Sleeping Beauty.” The two men looked at her in confusion and she reminded herself that wizards and muggles did not have the same fairy tales.

“What's the tale about?” Lupin inquired.

“Well, it’s about a king and queen. They longed for a child and finally are blessed with one. A daughter. They're so overjoyed that the entire kingdom is invited to celebrate the little princess’s birth, save an evil fairy. Angry that she was not invited, the evil fairy arrives and curses the princess to die by pricking her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel. The three fairies already in attendance cower, but the last of them changes the curse to be an eternal sleep that can only be ended by true love’s first kiss. The three fairies, in some versions, hide the princess until her sixteenth birthday, when she's to be returned to the castle. They fail to protect her though, and she falls into the deep sleep only to be awoken by a prince,” Hermione winced at her vague summary. “That's the story.”

“Would Voldemort know that story?” Sirius asked.

Hermione nodded. “It's a common tale told to muggle children. He grew up in a muggle orphanage, so he probably heard it or read it in a book of fairy tales. Though some parts don't make sense; the prophecy implies that he grows to love… me, perhaps… after the dreamless sleep begins. How could that be?”

“Well, we've got a little more than a year before you turn fifteen,” Lupin pointed out. “Your mission was to try and figure out a way to beat him at his game, but clearly this has changed. He will be trying to figure you out, and you must let him figure out Lyra Black. Now head back to the common room; it’s almost curfew.”

Hermione sighed and got to her feet. If she ran into Riddle again on her way back to the common room, she would scream. 

Instead, he was waiting in the common room, sitting with the fire to his back. He watched her like a predator eyeing its prey, and while she wanted to shudder, she sneered at him instead. “Shouldn't you be making your rounds, Gaunt?” she questioned. It was then that she noticed that he had his wand in hand, twirling it slowly yet menacingly. 

“I took the night off. Besides, you and I need to have a little talk, Miss Black.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Don't forget comments/kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> So I took liberties with what Sirius' magical specialities are, but obviously at this point I don't have a problem with canon divergence so is that really surprising?
> 
> Don't forget to leave some kudos/a comment!


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